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The Antebellum House (Teen, CFNM, Embarrassing Exposure, Reluctant,)
By: Hooked6

Copyright July 2020 by Hooked6 (Hooked6@hotmail.com) all rights reserved. Reproduction, redistribution, reposting on another Internet site whether or not a charge or profit is made is forbidden without the expressed written consent of the author. Copyright ownership does not transfer by the posting of this material on this site by the author. The following story is for ADULTS only. By accessing this story, the reader hereby certifies that he/she is of an appropriate age to access adult material and that such material is permitted in the locality or country where the reader resides. The following is a creative work of fiction, and the characters or incidents described do not resemble any persons or events in the real world. Comments are always welcome and serve to inspire my work.

The Antebellum House! (Teen, CFNM, Embarrassing Exposure, Reluctant.)
By Hooked6 (Hooked6@hotmail.com)

Chapter 1


Being the only teen boy on a small working farm has its advantages such as clean country air, an opportunity to work with animals and accepting responsibility at an early age. It is a life many boys would dream of. However, living in an old home that is almost 169 years old located in a small town where everybody knows everybody is quite another story. Life is different in a small town. We had only recently moved to this town in the deep South and into this house a short while ago and boy, did I have some adjusting to do in our new abode. In fact, this old house was the cause of many embarrassing and humiliating moments in my life that had a profound effect on me.

As you can probably imagine, living in a home that old that lacks a lot of the modern conveniences that with today’s homes come standard takes a lot of getting used to. In fact, the house I live in now is antebellum, which is a nice way of saying the house is fricken old, but it actually means it was built before the America Civil War or as we say in the South, The War of Northern Aggression. Now don’t get me wrong, I love old homes, old towns, antique tractors and automobiles and the like but trust me, an old Model A Ford built in 1929, for example, is no match for today’s high-performance automobiles with collision avoidance technology, entertainment systems, GPS satellite navigation, luxury suspension and the smooth rides that we all take for granted today. So too is the comparison of my home to a modern dwelling of today.

We were a typical family I suppose. There were only the four of us, mom, dad, my older sister (17) and me (having JUST turned 16) and more importantly all living in a home with only ONE bathroom (a rather uncomfortable room with a cast iron clawfoot tub with no shower that opened up directly into the living room or what used to be known as the parlor.) Yes, you read that right. It opened out into the living room. The rather ornate, large wooden bathroom door was tucked neatly under the staircase. I believe it was created after the introduction of indoor plumbing back in the day by making use of the unused space under the staircase and carving out some space from the adjacent kitchen towards the back of the house which was on the other side of the wall behind the staircase. I guess it was easier to put the bathroom on the other side of the kitchen wall to take advantage of common plumbing and drain pipes or something.

To help you picture this, as you entered the house from the front wrap-around porch, you would be in one large room with the parlor to the left and, looking to the right, there was an open-style dining room. If you looked straight ahead from the front door you would see the platform of the staircase that, after a couple of stairs, made a quick left turn and then ran up from the ground floor of parlor to the bedrooms upstairs. If you shifted your gaze to the left about half-way into the parlor to the wall under the staircase, there was a door tucked under the staircase that opened into the one and only bathroom for the whole house. While you were still standing at the front door, if you looked to the right of the backwards L-shaped staircase facing you, there was a small hallway that led to the kitchen door. My Dad’s study was on the right of the hallway opposite the kitchen door. Why go through all this detail? Well it is important to the story as you will soon see.

Given I had to help with farm chores early before school every day, I had to go to bed earlier than the rest of the family. On the other hand, my older sister’s duties commenced after school with helping mom with dinner, doing the dishes and other household chores like dusting and occasionally the laundry. So, I had to get up early while she slept in. Later in the evening I had free time while she worked helping mom. That’s just the way it was. Everyone had chores to do. My dad had a full-time job so the farm was a secondary source of income that we all pitched in when we could to keep it going. All in all, it was a good life . . . well MOST of the time, anyway. But there were times that, well, I hated. Mom and Dad were pretty strict with our upbringing. They were fair and loving but rarely tolerated disrespect or disobedience and corporal punishment was always a possibility for my sister and me even as teenagers – well mostly me as I got into more trouble than she did apparently.

Because of the layout of our old home and having only ONE bathroom as I just related, coupled with my earlier bedtime, I had to bathe earlier than the rest of the family. I was often interrupted during my nightly bath by my sister, mother or even guests that may have been visiting when the call of nature made itself known to one of them. Though this was not a nightly occurrence by any means – it did happen often enough, however, to be really embarrassing for a high school Sophomore like me. I lived in dread of that sudden, unexpected knock on the door followed by a voice, usually of my annoying sister yelling through the door, “Hurry up and get out. I need to use the bathroom!” Naturally, if I was USING the toilet they would wait, but other activities such as shaving, combing my hair or even if I was in the tub taking a bath was seen as secondary to “their needs.”

It wasn’t anything done on purpose and certainly wasn’t something done as a prank or to be malicious. I am absolutely certain about that lest all of you conspiracy theorists jump to invalid conclusions. It was just one of those necessary things that occasionally happened and living in a rural farm community that was pretty common. “Needs must,” my mom would always say as if by magic those two words put everything in perspective and made everything okay. I understood that women had different hygienic needs from men especially during “that time of the month,” but that didn’t mean that I viewed these so called “necessary” intrusions as okay. They were darn annoying . . . and often very embarrassing. I will hasten to add that although at that age I pretty much understood the “facts of life,” women were still pretty mysterious to me. All the men in my extended family seemed to give them deference when it came to matters important to them so I tended to do the same.

As I said earlier, my parents were pretty formal and strict about things and making a good impression on our neighbors or guests in this new town was paramount in their eyes lest they lose standing in their community. My parents came up with a way to deal with the inconvenience of having only one bathroom that was a compromise in their eyes that supposedly was socially acceptable and guess who did the compromising – me, that’s who.

My expected behavior went like this. If an “urgent call” to “use the facilities” as they called it came while I was in the tub, I was expected to quickly grab a bath towel and wrap it around my waist and pull a hand towel off the rack by the sink and hurried, without comment or complaint, to step out into the parlor dripping wet. I then had to toss the little hand towel onto the floor so I could stand on it so I wouldn’t get my mom’s wood floors wet and then politely wait for the person that needed the bathroom to attend to their needs as I stood there in the parlor, like an idiot, water ever so slowly dripping off my body. Many times, I was still covered with soap or shampoo. THAT was really embarrassing to me. I mean, who would want to be seen like that? When the person was through, I was to bend over and pick up the hand towel, drying any wet spots on the floor and then resume my bath as if nothing had happened.

My first experience with such a situation happened the third week after we had moved in. It was early August. I was in the tub and a knock came at the door, “Hurry up and get out, Eddie, I need to use the bathroom.” It was my sister, Amy, and her voice did indeed sound urgent. I mumbled under my breath and grabbed the bath towel and started to unfold it to wrap it around me when the door burst open and Amy walked in. “Too, slow, Moron. I have to go now!”

I screamed, “AMY! Get out! I’ll be through in a minute!” I knew she saw everything and it embarrassed me to no end.

She looked me up and down as I struggled with the towel and giggled a bit before grabbing me by the arm and started shoving me towards the open door. “You’re through now, Dufus,” she yelled as she pushed me out into the Parlor slamming the door into my face.

“That’s not fair!” I yelled through the door just as my mom walked into the room from the kitchen.

She put her hands on her hips and said in a clearly annoyed voice, “Is there a problem here?”

“Amy! That’s the problem,” I replied tersely, okay, rather RUDELY, but mom would have none of it. Instead she calmly but firmly said in her trademark motherly tone, “Look, I know this is inconvenient and maybe a little embarrassing but we’ve been through all of this and we ALL discussed it and came up with a logical solution which we all agreed upon. You are certainly old enough to understand the situation here. Needs must. You’ll just have to cope.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied meekly.

“I don’t want to hear another outburst like that ever again. You know what you must do, so stop acting like a child.”

Her handling of the situation really did make me feel rather small and I could see that I was being silly. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

She then looked me up and down standing there dripping wet clad just in my towel, ruffled my wet hair, smiled and added, “Besides, it’s not too much to ask,” and went back into the kitchen. I was truly embarrassed.

My sister was soon done and exited the bathroom and taking the moral high ground she politely said, “I’m sorry, it was an emergency. Thanks for your understanding,” and then just walked away without saying another word, not even teasing me about what she had just seen. It must have been a real emergency, I thought. I felt really stupid. I resumed my bath and tried to put the incident behind me.

The Antebellum House (Teen, CFNM, Embarrassing Exposure, Reluctant.)
By Hooked6 (Hooked6@hotmail.com)

Chapter 2



One Saturday a couple of weeks later, I had had a pretty strenuous day helping my dad with the chores and decided to take an early bath and just go to bed. Taking baths as opposed to showers was a new experience for me to be sure but on hard days like the one that I just had, I soon learned to relish them. After filling the old bathtub with hot water, I climbed in and just laid there letting the warm water sooth my aching muscles. Boy, did that feel good. I lost track of time I suppose as I was startled by a soft knock on the bathroom door – unlike my sister’s knocks which were unnecessarily loud; just like she was most of the time, this knock was soft and almost polite.

“Excuse me,” said a feminine voice that I didn’t recognize called from outside the bathroom door, “Are you decent? I really need to use the restroom if that’s possible.” Her voice was sweet, not demanding. At first, I was irritated that someone was interrupting me when I was so exhausted, but then I realized that someone I didn’t know must be visiting and needed to use “the facilities.”

“Um, sure,” I said a little unsure of myself as I realized I was about to show a lot more of myself than I was comfortable with to a total stranger. I nervously answered, “I’ll be right out!” Remembering how important it was to my mom for me to be prompt and remembering what strict disciplinarians my parents were if we made a bad impression to visitors, I hurriedly hopped out of the tub, wrapped a towel around me, snatched a little towel and opened the door, “Sorry,” I said apologetically to a wonderfully pretty woman in her early thirties, “I hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”

“Oh dear,” she said looking me over with a genuine grin, “I didn’t mean to interrupt your bath.”

Looking into her beautiful eyes that seemed to glisten in the light I thought she was one of the prettiest women I had ever met. I felt a stirring beneath my towel that I was desperately holding closed with my hand as, in my haste, I didn’t have time to properly tie correctly. “It’s okay, I understand.” I was deathly afraid that I was going to get an erection standing so close to the beautiful visitor almost naked. It was all I could do to try and control myself.

I felt like a fool when she politely extended her hand towards the open door that I was blocking and said, “May I?”

“Oh, of course! Sorry.” What a dufus I said chastising myself. I stepped away from the doorway and let her pass and stood there watching the door close. It was then that I heard another voice from somewhere behind me say, “So you must be Eddie, Ruth’s son?”

I was so enamored with the blue-eyed woman that I failed to realize that there were other people in the Parlor. By then I had developed a full-blown erection and it was pressing against the towel. I dared not turn around so I tried to just turn my head and shoulders towards the couch and discovered that there were three other women in the room sitting on the sofa behind me all looking at the sight of this teenage boy dripping wet standing there desperately holding a towel around himself.

Before I could answer, my mom came around the staircase from the kitchen carrying a plate of goodies. “Oh, I see you’ve met my son, Eddie.”

“Yes,” one of the women replied, “we’ve just met. Carolyn needed to . . .”

“Yes,” my mother said knowingly, “That happens a lot in this old house with just one bathroom.” Then looking directly at me with a knowing look, more as a warning than a statement of fact continued with, “fortunately my son is understanding about these things.”

“Oh, yes,” another lady replied, “He was most accommodating.”

“Good,” my mom remarked in a cautionary tone and then after putting the plate down, waved her arm towards the group indicating to me that she expected me to come over so I could meet her guests.

Ever aware of my still nagging erection, I was desperately looking for a way out of embarrassing myself. “Um, I’m not sure that is a good idea. I’m dripping wet and you know how you baby these floors, mom.”

The look my mom gave me sent shivers up my spine. It was clear by refusing her invitation to meet her guests up close and personal she took it as a personal insult to her and the company she was entertaining. SHE may not have had any problem with exposing me in just a towel, but I did!

My mom plastered a forced smile through partially clenched teeth, walked over to me, grabbed my arm and politely, but firmly said, “Nonsense, Son. Come meet my new friends.” From the tone in her voice I knew it was useless to argue.

I had no choice but to tighten my grip on the towel and turn around. I immediately saw smiles on every single one of the young ladies’ faces as they saw my predicament. Fortunately, none of them said anything about it. Since my mom was standing right next to me looking at her guests, I don’t think she was aware of my situation or I would have been over her knee in a heartbeat. She made the introductions and, after switching the hand I was holding the towel with, I extended my free hand to shake their hands. As my mom started to walk around to take her seat, I heard the bathroom door open and I quickly turned around to avoid having my mom see my condition.

As I walked towards the bathroom, I heard one of the women say, “He certainly is a fine young man, Ruth.”

Just as I was about to take pride in that comment I looked up and saw that heavenly creature exit the bathroom and she was looking right at my crotch and my . . . well, “condition.” She grinned as she looked at me and I could feel myself blush something awful. I nodded as I passed her and entered the bathroom as the lady took hold of the handle to close the door. “I hope,” she said with a smile, “that the water didn’t cool off too much while I was in there.”

I was in such a hurry to get back into the tub and finish my bath and get out of there, that I just dropped my towel onto the floor and started to get into the tub. “Nice,” I heard the woman say from behind me as she finally closed the door. I am sure she got a good look at my backside before leaving.

- - - -

Being seen interrupted by family members was irritating. Being interrupted by adult neighbors – especially women - was awkward and embarrassing if it happened while bathing, but being seen by Becky, a classmate of mine, was humiliating to say the least. Since I secretly harbored a crush on Becky, this ONE occurrence, actually being seen almost naked by this “special” person, became the sentinel event in that awkward time of adolescence that made me WAY more self-aware of my body and stirred feelings that up to then were not clearly understood by me at the time.

A couple of weeks later I was taking my evening bath when I heard my sister and a couple of her friends enter the Parlor. They were giggling and they were all talking at once as girls often do about stupid stuff, you know GIRL stuff. I thought I could wait them out as they usually messed around a bit, got bored and then would go outside or up to my sister’s room so mom wouldn’t hear their conversations. It became apparent, however after just sitting in the tub that wasn’t going to happen as their gabbing died down and they started talking about schoolwork. It seemed to me that they were doing some homework project for class. I waited some time longer then decided that I had better wash up, dry off and be ready to leave the room as soon as it seemed like a good moment.

As was my habit when I washed myself, I quietly stood up in the tub, lathered my body really well then put shampoo on my hair before rinsing myself all at once. Then I would get up, dry myself, wrap the towel around me and make my way upstairs, assuming that it seemed like the coast was clear. There wasn’t really a place to put clean clothes in the bathroom other than the floor as there was only a sink that stuck onto the wall, the toilet with the water closet hung high up the wall separate from the commode with a pipe running down the wall, and the bathtub. There was no counter space or cabinets per se – just the essentials. Though the area was rather roomy, it was also fairly Spartan. My parents thought keeping it that way went with the historical nature of the house. Consequently, everyone in the house did the same thing, that is wrapping up in a towel when their bath was through and heading to their rooms to get dressed taking their dirty clothes with them.

I had just lathered up and was washing my hair with shampoo when there was a knock on the door. “Oh, for crying out loud,” I shouted to myself silently. “Why does this happen at the worst possible times?” Instead, what I said was a polite, “Yes?”

It was my mom knocking at the door. “Sorry, son. I need to use the facilities.” That was my mom all over, prim and proper even in her language. I knew better than to try and stall with my mom at the door so I replied cheerfully, “Okay, Mom.”

I grabbed a towel from the towel rack and even though I was all soapy, I followed my parents’ rules and wrapped myself up in the towel about the waist without delay and opened the door.

“Thank you, son. I won’t be a moment.”

“Yeah like when does a woman only take a moment in the bathroom,” I thought to myself. I let out a soft sigh and exited the bathroom. I was so put out over the interruption that I had forgotten about my sister and her friends – until I saw them sitting there staring at me.

“What the hell?” came a surprised, incredulous but all too familiar voice. It was Becky, from my class; the girl I had a MAJOR crush on.

“Oh, that happens a lot,” my sister explained in a rather matter of fact voice. “We only have one bathroom and when somebody as to go, they have to go, so needs must.

“Even when someone is in the middle of a bath?!” Becky asked again incredulously. “I’d die if I lived here. I could NEVER step out in only a towel in front of company. How do you manage that?” she asked my sister.

“Oh, you wouldn’t have to. I don’t. Only the men in my family have to make way for the women or guests. We women can stay put.”

“Why is that,” Kathy asked.

“Well, if a man has to go and the room is occupied, then he can always pee outside behind a tree or something. It’s not proper for women to do that so we get priority.” Her remark caused all the girls to giggle aloud. I assumed they all were picturing the same thing – me, peeing outside.

It was then that I realized I was standing there still all soaped up clutching a loose towel looking like a moron or something.

“Hi, EddIEEeee . . .” Kathy said in a sing-song teasing voice. “My, don’t you look handsome today.” All the girls laughed in unison as they gawked at me. I wanted to just run and hide and I would have done if I wasn’t covered in soap suds from my head to my toes.

I looked over at my secret crush, Becky, and she too was relishing my predicament. She of all people was laughing at me at my expense. I was so humiliated!

“Nice towel. Did you buy that yourself?” another girl teased as I looked down and realized I was wrapped in a PINK towel – one that my sister uses. I must have grabbed it out of the linen closet before entering the bathroom without looking at it.

“Aren’t you HAPPY to see us?” Kathy asked with a mock frown as she looked right at my pelvis hoping to see some tell-tale sign of any arousal. Again, the crowd openly laughed as everyone focused on my towel. I tried like heck to keep that from happening. I’d be the laughing stock at school. I’d be ruined as there was no way these girls would keep that a secret; it surely would-be all-over town.

The Antebellum House (Teen, CFNM, Embarrassing Exposure, Reluctant.)
By Hooked6 (Hooked6@hotmail.com)

Chapter 3

Trying to maintain some semblance of dignity I stood there without reacting to their teasing. I forced myself to just smile at the girls politely as if standing in the Parlor covered with soap clutching a pink towel wrapped around my waist was a perfectly normal thing to do all the while trying to think of anything in my brain other than my fear of getting an erection. Finally, my mom exited the bathroom. “Sorry about that son. Needs must.” Then turning to the girls asked if anyone was staying for supper.” Fortunately, they all had other plans and made their excuses as I dashed into the bathroom and closed the door.


The next day at school I spotted the girls in the hallway between classes as I headed toward my locker. There was no avoiding them as they had all spotted me. I decided just to pretended nothing was amiss and retrieve my books and head to my next class.

I made to my locker without any of them saying a word to me and I figured that I had dodged another bullet. I only had to close my locker and leave.

“Hi Eddie,” came a chorus of playful voices from behind me. I immediately turned around to discover that all the girls had gathered around me and were smiling.

“It was nice SEEING you yesterday, Eddie.”

“Um . . . yeah it was nice seeing you too.: I replied with my voice shaking a bit. My reply must have been funny or something because the all giggled together.

They just kept looking at me after that without saying anything. They just smiled at me as if they didn’t really know what to say. I had never been the object of attention with so many girls at the same time and I found it disconcerting to sa the least.
“You have some pretty nice muscles, Eddie,” One of them said in earnest.

I thought it was a nice compliment until she added, “It was easy to see them while you were wearing just a towel.” They all howled hysterically at her remark making me blush.

“Next time though, you should try and keep a better grip on the ends of the towel. I thought I saw something I shouldn’t have seen.”

“YOU DIDN’T” another girl exclaimed, playfully slapping her friend’s arm as she said it.”

“Yep. Sure did!” the first girl added.” It was cute too. “If you ever need any help with your bath let me know, okay?”

She was teasing, of course, but I was so embarrassed I wanted to crawl under a rock and hide. The worst part was that they KNEW I was embarrassed and they kept it up until the first bell rang ad everyone had to scurry off to their classes.

Darn that stupid house, I thought. Why couldn’t we live in a modern house like everyone else?

* * * * * *


The next episode that involved another truly embarrassing exposure that happened that same year I was a Sophomore during the Thanksgiving Holidays. We had two families that were staying with us that entire weekend – one that consisted of my aunt and uncle on my dad’s side of the family and their two young boys aged 4 and 5. The second family were longtime friends of my mom who had moved away to Atlanta a few years back and brought their two girls, aged 14 and 15, with them to spend the holiday with us.

Things were really cramped in that small house but we made due. After our amazingly complete Thanksgiving dinner – one of the best meals I think I had ever had the privilege of eating especially given all the company and talented cooks present that year - the women left things be in the dining room for the time being and retired to the Parlor while my dad, my uncle, and Mr. Edwards (the husband of my mom’s friend) and I went out onto the front porch and regaled in telling of our fall hunting successes during the past deer season and told what I can only call creatively embellished fishing stories. It was dark outside when my mom called out to me to come and help her.

As the women continued visiting, she told me to get the old washtub from the barn, clean it out and then bring it in the kitchen. I figured since there were a lot of dirty dishes, pots and pans and the like she was going to need the old galvanized washtub to help with the washing up of the dishes and things.

After doing as she asked, you could have knocked me over with a feather when she told me to get the two little boys and give them their baths in the kitchen. It took me a bit to understand what she wanted me to do. When I asked why they couldn’t just use the bathroom, I was told that the Edwards’ girls would be using it and that there were too many people that needed to clean up before bed after that. so they needed to get creative so people wouldn’t be up until one in the morning. I started to argue a bit but was met with “Needs must, Eddie, needs must; I am trusting you with this as you are the oldest so don’t let me down.” I had heard that speech a thousand times before as it was dusted off and put forth whenever there was a chore that needed to be done that no one wanted to do. It did make me feel good I suppose to be counted on like that and entrusted with something important, however, so I knew I had to comply.

Her argument made sense I suppose, so as mom put the kettle on for hot water and started to fill the old tub, I got things ready. I surmised that the boys surely would take the longest so there was some logic in getting them out of the way early. While everyone visited back in the parlor, I made sure they got cleaned up and trust me – they both thought the idea of getting clean in an old wash tub was such an adventure! They played and generally made a mess and got more water on the floor and on me then they did on themselves, I think. They had a ball and consequently the whole process took a lot longer than I had hoped as they kept trying to climb out of the time and run around the kitchen. My mom came in and checked on me a time or two, grinned a bit at the chaos before her but never said a word. Somehow, I think she knew this was going to be a messy job which is why she gave it to me. When I had finished with the two, my aunt came in and was most pleased which made me feel good. I began cleaning up and emptied out the washtub in the sink so that I could get back out to the porch and hear some more outlandish stories my uncle was telling when my mom announced. “Okay, Eddie, your turn. I will put the kettle on again and you can set up the old tub over there while it gets hot.”

I was dumbstruck. Believe it or not I never thought I was going to be put in the same situation as the two little boys and have to bathe in the kitchen! I was still protesting with my mom when my dad came in. I was speaking to him a mile-a-minute. He listened to both sides – my argument that I was too old to be bathing in the kitchen with all those people around and my mom’s point of view that the girls were using the bathroom and that there were too many people to contend with. He finally and calmly just nodded his head and said, “It makes sense to me son. Just suck it up and get it done. Just think of it like skinny-dipping in the kitchen instead of Hudson’s lake” and then apparently sensing my unease added, “Besides when I was your age, I always bathed in the kitchen on Saturday nights . . .”

“Yeah, yeah,” said to myself “and you walked to and from school barefoot for ten miles in the snow uphill both ways.”

He was right of course. “Needs must,” he said again as he left the kitchen and I just grunted as mom poured the hot water into the tub and then added the cold.

“Best get a move on, Eddie, we have dishes to clean too and I still have breakfast to prepare early tomorrow for this crowd so I’d like to get to bed before sun-up,” my mom instructed prompting me to get going and not waste time. She set the empty water pitcher down on the counter and headed towards the door.

I made up my mind that this was going to be the fastest bath ever. So, after everyone had left the kitchen, I stripped off, checked the temperature of the water, stepped into the tub. knelt down and started washing. If you thought adjusting from taking showers to taking a tub bath was awkward, try figuring how to do it in five inches of water in a round galvanized tub!

It was eerie kneeling naked in the washtub with so many people in the house just a swinging door away. There wasn’t even a lock on that door. I could hear their many voices and conversations from both the Parlor and from outside on the porch which only reinforced just how vulnerable I was to potentially being completely exposed to any one of them. Still, I knew deep down that this couldn’t’ be helped and, after all, I wasn’t a kid any more so I just needed to be mature about the whole thing. I was alone and surely everyone knew not to enter.

It wasn’t but a few minutes after that I thought I heard my mom shouting out after someone in a panic, “WAIT! Eddie is taking his bath in the kitchen.”

I froze and then I heard my aunt reply just on the outside of the closed door, “Oh, that’s alright,” and then she barged into the kitchen carrying a load of dirty dishes. “Don’t mind me. Just getting a start on cleaning up,” she said cheerfully as she headed toward the counter by the sink. I was naked kneeling in the washtub covered with soap and I am sure that my mouth was hanging wide open. She gave me a quick glance and a knowing smile as she headed back out.

After getting over the shock of getting caught like that, I started once again to continue washing when I heard my aunt calling out, “Just put them on the counter, Katie,” and the door quickly opened again and in walked the oldest Edwards teenage girl.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me and nervously said, “Oh . . . sorry,” and backed out of the room. Her eyes were about as wide as I had ever seen on another person looking straight at me as she made her retreat backwards out the swinging door. I think she was genuinely shocked.

I then heard my aunt ask, “What’s wrong, honey?”

“Um . . . he’s taking a bath in there!”

“Well, never mind about that,” I heard my mom say, “I suppose we’ve got to get this place cleaned up; now is as good a time as any I suppose. Goodness knows the men aren’t going to help.” I could detect a bit of frustration on my mom’s part as clearly, she was a little overwhelmed with all the duties of trying to do the right thing as well as being a good hostess to so many people. I also understood that she didn’t want to make a big deal of what had happened to the girl by over-reacting so it appeared she just wanted to go with the flow.

The Antebellum House (Teen, CFNM, Embarrassing Exposure, Reluctant.)
By Hooked6 (Hooked6@hotmail.com)

Chapter 4


The door opened again and Katie walked in rather hesitantly, trying her best to give the appearance of respecting my privacy but doing a very poor job of it given that she had to walk right past me to get to the kitchen counter where the dirty dishes were being stacked. “Sorry . . . I, um . . . I just have to get these dishes . . . ah, you know,” Her voice unsteadily trailing off as she spoke and she was shaking a bit as if she was doing something terribly wrong and she knew it. She practically ran out of the room after putting things down.

The moment she left I tried to finish up as quickly as I could lathering up my hair and then trying to dunk it under the water which really wasn’t going to work given how little water was actually in the washtub. I am sure I must have looked the fool. It’s not easy bathing in a washtub let alone trying to rinse. I had to improvise as I went along. I noticed a small pitcher on the counter that I thought I could use so before anyone else came back. I decided to stand up, get out of the washtub and run over to the counter to get it, fill it up with warm water from the sink and bring it back to the tub to rinse. I had no sooner gotten up when in walked my aunt. “All done, Eddie?” she asked going about her business.

“I was just going to grab that pitcher there so I could rinse off,” I explained as I made a slight instinctive move to duck down back into the washtub but gave up as she looked at me.

My aunt noticed the pitcher next to her and immediately assessed the situation as all “moms” do and said, “I see. Just stay as you are, Eddie, I’ll bring it to you.” So, there I was standing in the washtub covered with soap as my aunt filled the pitcher, having first to wait for the water to warm up out of the tap. I was literally shaking, not so much from the cool fall air as from nervousness standing naked like that with all those people just outside the door. I could hear all of them talking away adding to my fears.

My aunt came over and started to ever so slowly pour the contents over my head admonishing, “Now, don’t move, Eddie, or you’ll splash this all over the floor.”

Then, my life ended.

From out of nowhere my sister and Becky came into the kitchen! I had no idea that Becky had even come over as she hadn’t been here during dinner, though it made sense that my sister had company as she certainly didn’t seem to be involved in any cleaning up so far so something must have been occupying her time.

“Mom said we should help with the washing up and . . .” then my sister noticed me and her polite tone immediately changed to one of irritation, “Oh for Pete’s sakes, put some clothes on, you wierdo.” To say I was embarrassed would be an understatement. My whole body became warm and I could feel my face flushing, not to mention that my heart was pounding the whole time.

Becky just stood there giggling as my sister gave an exasperated sigh as if SHE was the mortified one.

“Now, now,” my Aunt intervened, “Eddie had to get his bath and there are too many people staying over so your mom decided the men would use the kitchen while the women would use the bathroom. We’ll be done in a minute, girls,” my aunt said matter-of-factly. “You two can get started on that lot over there,” she indicated with a nod of her head towards the sink stacked with dishes and left-over table scraps.

As my sister and her friend made their way to the sink, my aunt held out the now empty pitcher to Becky and said, “Could you fill this with warm water, please. One more pitcher full ought to do it.” Becky, still with a wide grin on her face, dutifully approached my aunt, took the pitcher and did as she had been asked as my sister snorted her disgust. When Becky finished her task she once again came over and this time stood directly in front of me as she handed the now full pitcher carefully to my aunt.

I couldn’t help but notice Becky taking in all of me as her eyes followed the water as it cascaded down my naked form and into the washtub below as I stood there like an idiot. “There, Eddie, all done,” my aunt sweetly announced to the room as if I was like 5 years old. I was so embarrassed I can’t hardly describe it. I stood there awkwardly for several moments before my aunt broke the silence. “Eddie, where’s your towel? I’ll hand it to you so you can dry off.”

MY TOWEL! In all the confusion and newness of the whole bathing situation, I had forgotten to get a towel! “I guess I forgot to get one,” I sheepishly confessed to my aunt.

“No matter,” my aunt replied trying to put me at ease. “Becky, could you run and get one from the hall closet?” Becky scurried off to do as she was asked as my aunt went over to help my sister with the dishes leaving me standing there dripping water like a dope. My mom came in and soon joined my aunt and my sister at the sink as my aunt explained why I was just standing there soaking wet and naked not doing anything in the washtub.

It seemed like forever until Becky returned and handed me the towel. She just took a little step back and watched me dry off, apparently unsure of what she was supposed to do. It was only then as Becky stood so close to me with my mom, aunt and sister having their backs to me at the sink that the full realization of my situation overtook me and I started to get aroused. I heard a quiet little gasp from my classmate when, finally, she noticed my condition. Mercifully she never said a word but the look on her face is permanently etched in my brain. In like a nanosecond I wrapped the towel around myself at my waist to conceal the obvious and even though I wasn’t completely dry, I ran out of the kitchen and up to my room as our company looked on . . . some of them giggling a bit at the sight of me running up the stairs desperately holding onto the towel around my waist! I don’t think my heart ever beat that fast in my entire life up to that point.

* * * * * *

I never did go back downstairs for the rest of the evening, well, that is until I had to go down to sleep on the couch as my room was given over to our company. By then Becky was gone. If she said anything to my sister about seeing my condition my sister never let on. I did learn later that both my Dad and Mr. Edwards washed up in the kitchen while I was in my room trying to hide. I would bet the farm that no one barged in on them while THEY were washing up!

The next morning no one said anything at all about the previous night or treated me any differently. It was as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I hate this house!


To be continued if there is interest.

(Comments always appreciated.)

Excellent story. Please continue.

Please do continue. I read this over on Blondie's board last year and hoped there would be a continuation. Hopefully there's more activity here than there is on that board currently.

I'm going to have to look up the layout of an antebellum house though, being UK based I only have a vague idea of what it is. Thought it was a kind of old southern mansion ?

This is a blast, keep on going! Excited to read more!

Cant wait to see the next chapter.

Could our good friend and prolific poster jnhkowolp457 have inadvertently done us a favor by bumping this thread ? Any chance of a continuation Hooked ?

Still gotta play "catch-up" with the first chapter, but I am looking forward to thoroughly enjoying it!